Sweet Love
Fandom: CSI:NY
Author: Kimmychu
Rating: FRAO (Were you expecting anything else?)
Pairing: Danny/Flack
Content Warning: Ehm, first time fic. Flack in leather. Yup.
Spoilers: Nah, but just to be safe, post-Season 2.
Summary: It was sweet love for Danny from the moment he laid eyes on a very handsome homicide detective over five years ago. Unfortunately for the CSI, it seems that he'll never have a chance with Flack. Flack isn't interested in men … or is he?
Disclaimer: Danny's staked his claim on Flack. Guess they belong to each other now. Heh.
( Oooo …... oooO )
Author's Notes: Hurrah, here be the second installment for this story. The next one will complete it. As always, I hope you enjoy it and I thank you for all the kind reviews. I appreciate them! P.S. Am I the only one who wishes the show would have a scene of Danny and Flack going clubbing together in sexy clothes? I think not.
( Oooo …... oooO )
iii. "My arms will hold you, baby …"
"Stella … what does this look like to you?"
Stella straightened up from her inclined position over the lab table covered with crime scene photographs, glancing at Hawkes with a friendly smile. Her fellow CSI was holding up a piece of paper that had a simplistic doodle on it.
"Hmmm. It looks like …" Stella trailed off into silence. Examined the drawing for a moment. "Two … kidneys?"
Hawkes smiled, but said nothing.
"An … unwrinkled brain?"
That got a faint snicker out of the man.
"Two … random oval-like shapes?" Stella lifted one refined eyebrow and smirked. "Okay, I really don't know. What is it?"
Hawkes shrugged. "I have no idea."
Stella stared at her friend with a deadpan expression, then said, "Hawkes. If you're thinking of pursuing an artistic career, don't quit your day job."
Hawkes chuckled in amusement. "I didn't draw it. Danny did."
"Danny?" Stella's curiosity spiked dramatically. "Let me see that."
She took the paper from the former ME and looked closer at it. Both her eyebrows shot up. Huh. If she didn't know any better, those two oval shapes appeared a lot like … a certain voluptuous part of every human being's anatomy.
"Danny drew this?"
"Uh huh." Hawkes' brown eyes were crinkled due to his grin. "He's still doodling them, by the way, in the lab next door. He's so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even realize I'd taken this from his desk."
"Oh, I have to see this."
The two inquisitive CSIs quietly slinked their way to the laboratory's open door, then peered over the edge together until they could see into the lab next to theirs. Sure enough, Danny was inside, sitting alone at a table next to a computer, with a notepad in front of him and a black pen in hand. There was another technician in the room, but she was on the far side, with her back turned to Danny and the lab.
Stella felt a gentle nudge on her shoulder.
"See? He's doing it over and over," Hawkes whispered in her ear. "He's been like this for days."
She snickered under her breath, then moved closer to the open door of the other lab. Danny was looking downwards at the notepad he was scribbling on, wholly occupied with his newfound pastime. There were dozens of pieces of paper strewn all over the table, each with the same doodle Hawkes had shown her. He was resting his chin on one upturned palm. The cute, little smile he had on his mien made him look like a high school boy.
A high school boy who was madly in love with somebody.
Stella snickered again. Ooh, she was going to have some fun this morning. She glanced at Hawkes, who had one of his Uh-oh-Stella-has-that-evil-look-in-her-eyes-but-I'll-just-smile-anyway expressions.
"Come on, let's go see what he's up to!"
"Uhm, Stella -"
Without waiting for the rest of Hawkes' understated protest, she tiptoed into the quiet lab, straight up to Danny's table. She stood next to where he sat, an amused smirk on her lips. Wow, this was interesting. She'd never been able to creep up this close on the typically vigilant CSI before, not without being instantly noticed.
"Danny."
The black pen continued its journey around and around on the paper, darkening the suggestive outlines already drawn. It was only now that she realized Danny was humming softly too, a familiar love song with a title she couldn't recall at the moment.
"Danny," Stella said a second time.
All she received in return was the uninterrupted, repeated scraping of the pen across the paper.
Stella puckered her lips.
Then she bent forward, until her mouth was directly beside Danny's ear.
"Danny, that's a really nice pair of buttocks you're drawing there."
Stella wasn't quite prepared for Danny's unusually shrill yell of surprise. Or how intensely the blue-eyed detective reacted to her murmur by throwing up his arms high up, causing his notebook and all the paper to fly into the air and flutter everywhere. She veered backwards to avoid getting smacked in the face with the notebook, and it sailed past her head to land on the floor nearby. Danny's black pen ended up in a large, empty beaker on the table behind them.
Hawkes, who was now standing opposite them on the other side of the table, was laughing his head off. A piece of paper that flew up slapped him right in the face as it floated back down.
The other lab technician in the room stared at the three of them with a narrowed, befuddled gaze, wondering what the heck just happened.
Danny sat where he was on his chair, plastered with more paper on his head, body and lap, red-faced. The only part of his body that shifted were his wide eyes, glancing first at Hawkes and then at Stella in alarm. After a minute, he stuck out his lower lip to blow away the paper still stuck to his head.
And Stella crossed her arms over her chest, fighting very hard to not burst out laughing like Hawkes had.
"Hello, Danny. Is everything alright with you today?" Stella grinned widely.
The bespectacled detective twiddled his thumbs for a minute as he continued to look at his fellow CSIs, crimson as a tomato. Stella could virtually hear the cogs twirling like mad in Danny's brain. She figured Danny would go for the I-don't-know-why-you-crazy-people-are-laughing-at-me-for gameplay when he eventually schooled his face into a poker face and said calmly, "Yeah. I'm okay. Why are ya askin'?"
This time, Danny stuck out his upper lip instead to puff away the paper that landed on his chest.
"Well," Stella replied. She plucked up one of the scribbled papers from Danny's lap and studied it with a cheeky smirk. "It's been a while since I've caught you doodling butts over and over."
Danny pouted. "You have not!"
"So you're saying, you are doodling butts?" Hawkes was rubbing at his brown eyes moist from all his guffawing. There was a mischievous twinkle in them.
"What?! NO!" Danny's blush intensified.
"I don't know, Sheldon," Stella said in an impish manner. "Doesn't it look just like a butt to you?"
Hawkes analyzed the drawing on the paper that had been on his face. "Hmmm, I don't know, Stella. I think I'm going to stick with my theory of this being a … nonfigurative representation of human sensuality. Uh hmm."
Stella raised her eyebrows at the seated, brown-haired CSI. "Yep. He thinks it's a butt too."
Danny's lower lip protruded in a sulk. He glowered at his peers, then crossed his arms on his chest.
"What, a guy can't express himself artistically 'round here anymore?"
"Tell you what, Danny, I promise I won't tell anybody about this new … hobby of yours, if!" Stella's face crinkled in a wicked grin. "You tell me who this butt belongs to."
Hawkes gasped. Stella wanted to snicker so much at his overly dramatic mock expression of shock. The man was such fun to tag team with to tease people.
Danny's response was to simply clam up and glare at something in the distance, pointedly ignoring them.
"C'mon, Danny, tell us!" Hawkes tilted forward on the table to get closer to Danny and Stella. He was smiling like a boy who was at the candy store. "Is it Cindy's?"
"No," Danny said through gritted teeth after a moment of quiet. "Broke up with her ages ago."
"Ooooh, you know what that means, right?" Stella said to Hawkes.
"Oh, yes, Stella, I do!" The former ME cupped his face with his hands and leaned his elbows on the table top. "So! What's her name?"
Danny merely glowered at Hawkes, pursing his lips.
"Or … what's his name?"
Danny's head snapped in Stella's direction so fast she clearly heard an audible, cracking sound.
"W-what?"
Stella was inwardly clapping her hands and doing a victory hopping dance. Oh hoh. So her suspicions all this time about Danny and a certain homicide detective … might not be so incredulous after all.
"You know. What's your boyfriend's name?"
Even Hawkes was genuinely gawking at her now.
"B-boyf …" Danny trailed off into a series of incoherent mutters, then suddenly erupted into an outraged cackle. "Boyfriend! What?!"
"I mean, if we take a close look at this … piece of art -" - Stella held one drawing with both her hands and displayed it to the other two detectives - "It's quite obvious that it's a very … masculine, manly butt."
Hawkes' lips quivered in his efforts to maintain an outwardly serious expression. "Hmmm, yes, I see your point, Stella. The lack of roundness at the sides do indicate that the owner of said bottom is most likely a man." He nodded sagely.
Danny glowered at both CSIs one last time, and abruptly turned his back on them, bending over on his seat to pick up the paper scattered on the floor around him.
"That's it. I'm not talkin' to you two anymore."
"Awww, Daaaaanny." Stella wrapped an arm around the younger detective's shoulders when he was upright again, slanting her head against his. "I was just teasing you. You'll tell me who the person is, riiiight?"
"No."
Hawkes sniggered.
Stella bowed her head to look at Danny in the eye, and deliberately blinked doe-like eyes at him a few times. "Please?"
"No."
"But -"
"No."
"You -"
"No."
The bespectacled CSI gazed at the Greek CSI with a gleam in his blue eyes. "If you'd been nice to me, I might have. But ya lost yer chance. Too bad." He sent her a grin displaying both rows of pearly teeth.
It was Stella's turn to pout.
Hawkes laughed in amusement. "Stella, I think we should get back to examining those photos." He winked at Danny.
With a sigh, Stella reluctantly released Danny and allowed Hawkes to lead her towards the door. However, she was the kind of lady who always had the last word.
"I'm going to find ouuuuut, Danny. One way or another, I wiiiiiiill."
"Uh huh. Sure, Stella. I'll visit ya in yer padded room later."
Danny, not blushing so much anymore, wrinkled his nose at her in a snooty manner. He arranged all the paper in his grasp into a neat stack on the table, and went to working on the computer next to him. The big monitor effectively hid him from Stella's view as she was bodily carted out of the laboratory by Hawkes.
"Stella Bonasera, you are a very naughty woman," Hawkes said to her as soon as they were in the hallway and out of Danny's hearing. "Boyfriend?" He had an extremely amused smile spread across his face.
She shrugged. "Yeah, and?"
"What gave you that idea about Danny?"
Stella smiled enigmatically. "You've never seen the way he stares at Flack, have you?"
"Uhm, uh … well … no …" Hawkes was staring with wide eyes at something past her shoulder. "But I think I can understand why Danny would be staring at Flack … if the guy was dressed up like that."
"Huh?"
She turned around.
And almost keeled over from her heart stopping on the spot.
The homicide detective was sauntering down the hallway towards them, smiling and greeting lab technicians like he usually did as he passed them. There was a certain strut to his movements that drew all eyes to his body, and kept those gazes honed in on him. One female technician was apparently so enraptured by Flack that she crashed headlong into another technician, who, in turn, toppled backwards into another technician who was thankfully strong enough to catch them.
Stella's lower jaw sagged.
Whoa. She couldn't blame that lab technician one bit for reacting that way to the homicide detective today.
It was a truly rare and momentous experience to see Flack attired in nothing but a thin, black tank top and sleek, black leather from shoulders to toe. The silver studded and buckled jacket was different from the one he used to wear, much more like something a punk rocker would don instead. It appeared dashing on Flack anyway. Stella half-wondered if the tight leather pants Flack had on was cutting into the man's circulation. There was no way comfortably fitting trousers could delineate the muscles of his legs in such an … attention-grabbing way. And those biker boots would totally cause Danny's eyes to go green with envy.
"Hey Stell, Doc." Flack flashed a teethy grin at them, taking off his bad cop sunglasses and hooking them onto his jacket pocket. "How ya doin'?"
Both CSIs unashamedly eyeballed him from head to toe and back up once more.
"Who are you, and what have you done with Detective Don Flack, Jr.?" Stella asked with a straight face.
The lanky homicide detective cackled. "Wha, I can't even go out without my suits no more?"
"So … this is going to be your new work attire from now on?" Hawkes said with an disbelieving smirk.
Flack rolled in his eyes. "Noooooo, it's my day off today. This is …" He gesticulated wildly with his hands at himself. "This is me bein' casual!"
Stella and Hawkes stared at Flack with unconvinced eyes.
"Whaaaaaaat?"
"Don, if this is you casual, I can't wait to see what you wear when you're on the prowl," Stella said after a while, smiling broadly.
"Ya see me in my full glory, and you'll never be the same again." Flack winked both eyes at her.
Before Stella could reply, a sudden , piercing shout echoed throughout the corridor. Then a low thud as something flat and light landed on the floor.
Stella and Hawkes swiveled around to see Danny standing about a dozen feet behind them, paper fluttering in the air all around him. His rectangular notebook was on the floor in front of him, flapped open to reveal more random scribbles of suggestive, oval shapes. Shocked out of his mind was a real understatement to describe Danny's current expression. And was it possible for a guy's face to turn that dark a shade of red?
"Hey, Dan! Ya okay, buddy?"
Somehow, Flack had moved from standing in front of Stella and Hawkes to standing in front of Danny at lightning speed. Stella blinked, then smiled to herself while she furtively ogled Flack from behind. Ooh, baby, the homicide detective sure deserved more off days if he was going to dress up like this every time. She couldn't help staring at Flack's posterior as the man bent down to help a flustered Danny gather all the paper on the floor.
Huh. Now that she had firsthand visual aid for comparison's sake, Danny's drawings really did resemble Flack's -
"What's this?" Flack had one of the doodles in one hand, angling his head and staring at it.
"Uh, it's, uhm, it's -" Danny was rubbing his hands together in a hyperactive fashion that reminded Stella of, strangely enough, a hamster scurrying on its teeny feet inside one of those running wheels.
"Heeeey, I know what this looks like!" Flack said exuberantly. "See, if ya draw little circles inside them … they'd be cartoon eyes! Right, right?"
Danny evidently didn't expect that answer. "Uhm … yeah." The CSI sent Flack a grin that looked a lot more like a relieved grimace. "Yeah! That's it. Cartoon eyes."
One end of Stella's lips curved up in an amused smirk. How ironic that the homicide detective, who was so intuitive and sharp, would be oblivious to the most obvious. After all this time, and the guy still didn't know how much Danny was crushing on him? If something didn't happen soon, Stella was going to personally step in and smack their heads a few times or ten.
"Come on," Stella whispered to Hawkes. She quickly dragged the dazed CSI back into their laboratory close by, standing against the open door so she could peek over the edge and spy on the two detectives. She shushed the man with a finger to her lips when Hawkes started to say something.
"Sshh, I want to listen."
"Stella, didn't your mommy tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?" Hawkes asked with a smile and a slight shake of his head.
Stella simply smiled back, and then resumed her surreptitious observation. Concealed where she was, she was able to see both Danny and Flack's faces and their expressions, and hear what they were saying without them realizing she was there. Perfect.
Flack was standing closer to Danny now, a half arm's breadth away.
"I didn't know ya like drawin'." The taller detective returned the paper he'd collected to Danny, who hastily stuffed them beneath the cover of his notebook.
"Well, yeah, I draw and paint sometimes." Danny kept glancing everywhere except Flack's face. His own visage was still flushed. "Abstract stuff, ya know."
"Really? Ya gotta show me the next time I crash at yer apartment. Or maybe when ya come over to mine."
One of Stella's contoured eyebrows shot up. They stayed overnight at each other's apartments? How … interesting.
"Sure." The bespectacled CSI appeared very pleased with Flack's sincere curiosity in his art.
There was a comfortable silence between the two men. It never occurred to Stella just how much Flack openly stared at Danny. The guy hadn't looked away once since he gave back those doodles to the shorter detective. And as for Danny, he wasn't doing a good job of hiding his ogling of the homicide detective, at least not to Stella.
Flack continued to gaze at the other man with warm eyes. Danny looked Flack from head to toe another time, then seemed to catch himself, then audibly cleared his throat.
The CSI's tongue flitted out.
A soft smile grew on Flack's handsome visage.
Danny's tongue slowly made its journey across his lower lip.
They stared into each other's blue eyes, unaware of the rest of the world.
"Come on, do something!" Stella murmured to herself.
Danny began to lean forward.
Flack's lips parted.
And then Danny jerked violently, taking a step backwards. He coughed. Glanced away for a second. Flack remained where he stood, his large eyes as tender as ever.
"So, uh …" Danny gestured at Flack's outfit. "You goin' on a date later or somethin'?"
Flack appeared puzzled for a moment. "Huh?" He looked down at himself. "Oh, this?" He made a face. "Naah, just thought it'd be nice to have a change a' wardrobe for once."
The homicide detective's hands went to the lapels of his leather jacket. He spread open his jacket, uncovering the steel-studded belt low on his hips. Stella's green eyes widened at the sight of the brass knuckles hanging dead center on the belt. Wow. She was never quite going to see Flack the same way ever again.
"Ya like it?" Flack said in a deep voice.
Danny's tongue darted out again. It stayed between his lips, like he was sucking on it. His blue eyes were undoubtedly zoned in on a precise area of Flack's lower body.
"Yeeeah."
The CSI suddenly jolted, and turned tomato red. He loudly cleared his throat, scratched at the side of his head then acted as if he hadn't done anything wayward.
Stella chuckled under her breath. Technically, Danny didn't. Unless somebody was watching him intently and knew what to look for.
"I mean, that -" Danny pushed his spectacles up his nose. "That kinda looks like somethin' I'd wear. Yeah."
The homicide detective's face crinkled in a delighted grin. "Yeah, I know. Got the inspiration from ya."
Stella thought it was exceedingly cute that Danny displayed such a precious, boy-like smile whenever he received a heartfelt compliment. Especially if it was from Flack. The rosy cheeks made his smile even more endearing.
"I see ya got the boots too," Danny said softly.
"Oh, yeah, I was lucky. Got these at a great price." Flack raised one leg to let Danny inspect one boot. "We're 'bout the same size, right? Ya can borrow these from me any time, if ya wanna."
All of a sudden, Flack glanced at his watch on his left wrist. "Ah, geez, I'm gonna be late for my hair cut."
Danny smirked. It was the kind of smirk that was half authentic and half suspicious of something. "Hair cut?"
"Yeah, I'm thinkin' a' gettin' a trim 'fore hittin' that new club. Ya know, the one that's all the rave in the last few days -"
"Oh yeah, I know -"
"So ya wanna join me tonight?"
Danny just about dropped his notebook and doodles all over again. He stuttered inarticulately for a few seconds, then sucked on his lower lip.
"You … want me to go … clubbin' with ya?"
"Sure, of course I do!" Flack chuckled. "It'd be fun. C'mon, Messer, all work and no play makes Danny a dull boy."
"Well -"
"C'mooon, just say yes."
After a minute of rumination, Danny smiled at Flack and said, "Okay."
"Good!" Flack slapped his hands together. "You can bring yer date with ya too, I don't mind. I'm bringin' someone along."
Stella frowned. She released a low, annoyed sound from between pursed lips. No, wait a minute … This wasn't how things were supposed to go!
Flack glanced away from Danny's face to the enormous windows next to them to check out the weather outside. It was merely a second.
And in that one second, Stella saw how crestfallen the CSI was at Flack's nonchalant statement.
"So I'll see ya tonight at the club, 'kay?" Flack said, utterly unaware of Danny's dejection. "Ya know where it is?"
Stella had to hand it to the younger CSI. He was a really good actor, if she ever saw one.
By the time Flack was gazing at Danny once more, Danny's face was deceptively impassive. "Yeah. I know where it is." The subdued tone of his voice was even more misleading.
"Okay, great." The leather-clad homicide detective was already swaggering down the corridor, away from her laboratory. With Danny's back now turned towards her, she wasn't so hesitant about sticking out her whole head over the frame of the doorway.
"I'll talk with ya later!" Flack raised a hand in farewell as he slipped on his sunglasses.
"Yeah. Sure."
It wasn't necessary for the Stella to see Danny's face to know how he felt. The disappointment in his voice was as plain as the day. She had to restrain herself from going after him, and instead, settled for watching Danny shuffle back to his lab down the hallway. She'd talk with him later -
Out of the blue, she heard someone deliberately clearing his throat behind her.
"Stella, is there a reason why you're clinging to the door like a squirrel and spying on Danny?"
Whoops. It was Mac, with his arms crossed on his chest and his naturally solemn countenance. Fortunately, there was a bright sparkle of amusement in those hazel eyes of his.
"Uhm. No, I was actually … testing the …" Stella faltered for an instant under Mac's intense gaze. "I was testing the …" She grabbed the edge of the laboratory door and sent Mac a toothy smile. "The sturdiness of this door!"
The ex-Marine's lips twitched visibly.
Stella shot him an innocent look.
Mac sighed heavily.
"Stella, I've told you before, leave Danny and Flack be," Mac said smoothly.
"But I didn't do anything!"
Mac's eyebrows lifted high. "Ah, and I suppose it's very normal behavior to hide behind a door while eavesdropping on your peers' personal conversation, hmmm?"
She held her hands up. "Hey, they were standing in the hallway within ear shot of anyone close by. Not my fault if I could hear everything."
Hawkes, who'd been doing his work and examining those crime scene photographs on the lab table all this time, sniggered heartily.
Mac pinched his forehead and then shook his head in incredulity.
"I tried, Mac, I really did." Hawkes flashed a lustrous grin.
"I'm telling you, there's something going on between Danny and Flack!" Stella said firmly.
Mac's features finally broke into an entertained and somewhat frustrated smile.
Hawkes' chuckle became a full blown laugh.
"Steeeeella, not this again!" Mac covered his eyes with a hand.
"Look! I'm just telling you what I see!"
"Okay, fine." Mac removed his hand. His eyes were crinkled. "If they've … something going on, it's their business."
Stella stared blankly at her CSI partner. "What? It doesn't bother you?"
"No, why would it? As long as they do their work well and keep their lives private, no, I have no problem with it."
She nibbled on her lower lip.
Held her breath.
It was now or never.
"So … you wouldn't mind if I asked you out for dinner tonight?"
It was extremely silent in the room.
Hawkes was gaping at them both, his brown eyes made even larger by the lenses of his glasses.
Mac was staring at her too. His mouth was partially open. If it wasn't for the fact she'd just asked what was possibly one of the most important questions of her life, she would have laughed at the pure astonishment on Mac's mien.
"I …" Slowly, the ends of Mac's lips began to curl up. "I don't mind at all."
"About damn time."
The two CSIs turned their heads to stare at Hawkes.
Hawkes grimaced. "I said that out loud, didn't I?"
Stella and Mac returned to gazing at each other, and then, they broke into mellifluous laughter together. After a short while, Mac said, "Alright, let's get back to work."
She felt a hand wrapping itself around her wrist. And a thumb stroking the back of her hand for a mere moment.
"Hope you like Greek, Mac."
Mac smirked puckishly. "I always have."
iv. "Never leave, 'cause I believe …"
Danny fidgeted on his seat for the twentieth time. He leaned his bare forearms on the table top, tremendously conscious of other patrons of the club staring at him. It couldn't be because of his white tank top, or his low-cut, rugged jeans. They were terribly tame compared to what most of the other club goers were wearing.
Damnit. He knew he shouldn't have put on all that eyeliner and mascara.
The CSI unconsciously sucked in his lips and pressed them together.
Damnit. He shouldn't have put on so much lip gloss either. People could probably see their own reflections on his lips or something.
He frowned slightly to himself. He couldn't stop recalling Flack's last words to him this afternoon. His friend was bringing along a date for the night.
And he hadn't.
Danny sighed inwardly, bowing his head. It was going to be so awkward, him on his own and Flack caught up with some woman. Or, as the man's photo album had attested, possibly some guy.
His frowned deepened. He couldn't make up his mind which was worse. It was going to literally kill him to see Flack with anyone else but h-
"Ahh!"
He nearly jumped off his seat when he felt a hand blatantly caress his lower back. Twisted around to come face to face with someone who was either a really tall, big-sized woman, or a man who appeared remarkably fine for a transvestite, Marilyn Monroe lookalike.
"Sorry, sweetums." The unknown club patron giggled loudly, and winked at Danny. "My hand must have slipped."
Before Danny could retort, the person had disappeared into the bustling throng of dancers on the club dance floor close to his table. He snorted, blue eyes narrowed dangerously. The next person who touched him without his permission was going to get the living crap kic-
He felt another hand brushing over his lower back. This one was even so daring as to slide downwards to cup one side of his bottom.
"What the fu-"
Danny leapt off the stool he was perched on. His fisted hand was already in mid-air -
"Hey, Danny, sorry I was late."
The CSI blinked hard, feeling somewhat foolish with one fist up in the air. He blinked some more as soon as he realized he was quite literally nose to nose with his best friend, who was smiling at him. And smelt so fucking good. And was so deliciously warm.
"Don?"
Danny didn't dare to look down. He had the funniest, tingly feeling all that was between him and Flack's bare chest was his tank top.
Flack smirked. "Yeah, who were ya expectin'?"
"I - nothin', it's nothin'," Danny replied, lowering his arm and smiling in return. He was bewildered, but he endeavored his best to not let it show on his face. Okay, it had to be somebody else who molested his ass right before Flack arrived -
"Hey, thought you were gonna bring a date."
Danny blinked once more. There were so many people milling in the club around them, they were being pushed together till their chests rubbed against each other. Danny had to tilt backwards a bit to look Flack in the eye. If he didn't, he'd end up resting against the taller man's chest and shoulder instead.
He wasn't sure if Flack would appreciate him poking the man with something other than a roll of quarters if that happened.
"Nah. I … I had a change a' plans."
"Oh, okay."
The CSI stared into his friend's big, warm eyes. Weird. For some reason, Flack looked like he was happy Danny was there on his own.
"What 'bout you? Ya said you were bringin' somebody along tonight."
"Nah. I had a change a' plans." Flack's smile broadened.
So did Danny's.
There was an odd glint in the taller detective's eyes. It sent tremors rushing up and down Danny's spine. He carefully shifted back, separating their bodies by inches. If Flack discovered firsthand the physical effect the guy had on him, Danny was certain it would all be over. He couldn't afford to lose Flack's friendship.
It was agony simply imagining his life without the handsome, dark-haired man.
"C'mon, let's go get some drinks and find a less crowded spot," Flack said into his ear over the background music.
Over twenty minutes later, the two men were sitting close together in a cozy, customized cubicle out of a dozen lined up along one wall of the club. The cubicle was egg-shaped, and its entry was draped close by sheer curtains that afforded some measure of privacy. Danny sat with his legs folded up against his chest, squirming on the cushions piled up on the floor, gripping his mug tightly with both hands. Flack, on the other hand, was sprawled on said cushions like a rag doll, making himself right at home. His mug was already empty, left at the entry to be collected by one of the waiters.
The chill from his iced mug of beer wasn't the only thing causing Danny to tremble.
"This place ain't so bad, huh, Danny?" Flack murmured.
Lying down as he was, the homicide detective was a feast for the eyes. His freshly shorn hair looked thick and velvety. He was dressed in the same pair of leather pants and boots he had on earlier in the day, but his top …
"Don. Where did ya get that … thing you're wearin'?"
Flack peeled one eye open. "Thing?"
Danny was damn sure his friend had put on eyeliner and mascara too. Or were Flack's eyelashes always that dense and dark?
"Yeah." Danny motioned with his head at the leather that covered Flack's arms, neck and shoulders. "What is that, some kinda BDSM costume or what?" He smirked.
Outwardly, the CSI feigned mild distaste, but inwardly, he thought Flack's leather top was the hottest thing he'd ever seen on his friend. It might have been a normal leather jacket once, but it'd been cut to reveal Flack's whole torso while still covering his arms to the wrists. The silver buckles at the neck from under the jaw to collarbones ensured the modified jacket remained on like a second skin.
Danny licked his lips. He was so freaking grateful the ambient lighting was dim. His face felt searing hot.
Flack cackled softly. "Nope, just an old jacket I changed into somethin' … different." He opened both eyes and grinned.
"Ya wear that out to clubs with all yer friends?" Danny took a sip of his beer. He couldn't stop himself from raking his eyes over the other man's bare upper body.
"No." Flack rolled onto his side. "Just a select few I really trust." He glanced at his fingers. "Special people."
"Huh." Danny puckered his lips in curiosity. "And how many times have ya worn it out, countin' this time?"
Flack took a moment to respond. He gazed meaningfully at Danny.
"Once."
Danny suddenly found it difficult to breathe properly. His quarter-filled mug became very heavy. Goosebumps popped up all over his body. A specific part of his anatomy hardened up fast at Flack's baritone tenor. He shivered.
The homicide detective was staring intensely at him, silent and astute. There was a slight curve to Flack's lips that made his toes curl in his boots.
Right then and there, one side of the curtain was pulled aside.
"Hi there! How are you boys doing tonight?" It was one of the waitresses of the club, clad in a skimpy, PVC corset and mini skirt along with thigh-high, heeled boots. She smiled widely, particularly at Flack.
"We're doin' just fine, sweetheart." Flack looked at her from beneath his eyelids. "How are you doin'?"
The waitress giggled, twirling her black tresses around one forefinger and brazenly eyeballing Flack from head to toe. "Oh, my night's just gotten much better." She winked at Flack, then said, "Would you like more drinks?" She glanced at Danny, aiming a smile at him too. "A refill for you?"
Danny opened his mouth to reply. However, Flack got to it first.
"Nah, s'okay. We're leavin' soon. But thanks for askin'." The homicide detective sent her another roguish grin.
"Awww, well, you two have a good night then." She giggled again. "Have fuuuun." She wriggled her fingers in a cute goodbye wave, and promptly vanished with the swishing close of the curtain over the cubicle entrance.
"Ya don't wanna stay and … dance, or somethin'?" Danny asked.
"Not really." Flack sat up and stretched his arms into the air like a majestic cat. "Got a headache, so I thought I'd crash for the night." He gazed at Danny with a little smile. "Ya don't hafta leave 'cause of me, buddy. If ya wanna dance, I'm sure there're lotsa ladies on the dance floor who're more than willin' to."
"I wanna be with you."
Danny became as rigid as a wooden board the instant the words left his mouth.
Oh crap. Did Flack hear that?
Flack angled his head to one side. He was still smiling.
"What was that, Danny? Couldn't hear ya over the music."
The CSI sighed inwardly in vast relief. Thank you, deafening club music.
"Just said it's no fun without friends." Danny smirked, and reinforced his statement with, "Anyway, I'd totally get a kick outta stealin' yer dance partner."
Flack had that strange glimmer in his blue eyes again. "Guess that depends on who my dance partner is, hmmm?"
"I -"
The homicide detective abruptly clambered onto his knees.
"C'mon, Dan. Let's go back to my place, whaddaya say?"
Danny finished his beer, and cheerfully said, "Sure, I don't mind."
"I got another movie."
Danny cackled. "It's not like that stupid show, is it?"
Flack cast a mysterious smile on him. "No … but I'm pretty sure you're gonna love this one."
( Oooo …... oooO )
Danny was fidgeting once more. Only this time, it was on Flack's black couch, while he observed his lanky friend inserting a DVD into the player. He smirked to himself. Perhaps now was a good time to tease Flack about his My Little Pony DVD -
"I'm gonna go take a shower."
Danny blinked. Huh? Wasn't Flack going to join him in watching the movie?
The homicide detective seemed to read Danny's mind.
Flack gestured at his body. "Just feelin' kinda sticky. And anyway, leather's hell to take off."
The CSI let out an amused snicker.
"Geez, ya shoulda seen me gettin' into these pants in the first place." Flack started to remove his belt from around his hips. "I was like … Squeaky McSqueak or somethin'."
Danny swallowed visibly. He was too busy staring at the lean musculature of the other man's broad chest and abdomen to utter a rational comment. Fuck, why did Flack have to be so damn gorgeous? And unattainable?
"Anyways …" Flack pressed the play button on the DVD player. "This oughta keep yer attention till I'm done."
Danny cleared his throat and said, "What's the movie 'bout?"
Flack was poker-faced. "Trust me, you'll like it, 'kay? Just watch it." He ambled towards his bathroom. "Ya can shower after me, if ya like."
"I'd rather shower with you instead," Danny mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I said, it's okay." Danny coughed shortly. "Just, uh, didn't bring along an extra set a' clothes."
"Okay."
The black screen of the television flickered to life. Alone in the living room, Danny permitted himself to extend his legs at long last. His right hand crept downwards between his legs. He moaned softly, rubbing at his erection after unzipping his jeans.
"You're gonna be the death a' me, Don," Danny whispered.
He was half paying attention to all the sounds coming from the shower, and half watching the television. His hand moved on its own accord, the stimuli sending streaks of pleasure coursing through his body. He took a deep breath, eyelids fluttering.
Had to stay in control, he had to stay in control and listen out for Flack getting ready to come out -
The movie began.
Danny's hand gradually stilled. His brows lowered in a mystified frown.
There was nothing but a black sofa on screen, one that looked eerily similar to the one he sat on right now.
"What the …"
A few seconds passed. Then, a man came into sight from the right side of the scene.
Danny gasped audibly.
Holy shit. The guy looked so much like him. Blue eyes, brown spiky hair, the goatee, right down to the tank top and jeans. The actor even had a pair of glasses on. It was unbelievable.
The CSI's eyes widened.
The man on screen went to sit on the sofa. He was barefoot. He seemed to be waiting for something, stroking at his arms in an almost nervous way. All of a sudden, the man turned his head to look at something or someone off screen.
Danny straightened up, his hands on thighs, jeans still unzipped.
Another man showed up, coming into the scene from the left. This guy was taller than the other actor, with short, dark hair, dressed in a plain black t-shirt and jeans as well. And he had blue eyes.
Danny's mouth opened into a small 'O' shape.
No way.
The guy looked just like … Flack.
Danny inhaled sharply.
Oh fuck, there was something about this video that was giving him such a sense of déjà vu -
The taller man was sitting next to the other guy now, so close their bodies touched. He gently took off the other man's spectacles, leaving them on the couch. Then, in a flash, they were plastered up against each other, kissing and groping each other madly. Their grunts and moans filled Danny's ears.
"Fuck me."
The man in the white tank top had an accent that definitely wasn't a New York accent.
It was what stopped Danny from exploding in his pants right then and there.
He couldn't stop watching the scene that unfolded on the television screen. The taller guy was stripping his partner of his tank top, licking and nibbling down a sinewy chest and stomach. The jeans were the next to go.
Danny's fingers dug into his thighs. His lower lip trembled.
The two men in the now obviously pornographic movie were no longer two strangers. In Danny's mind, they were now Flack and himself, and Flack was between legs, head bobbing up and down in a very familiar fashion as he writhed and moaned -
He suddenly felt a large hand stroking his back, slithering down to squeeze his bottom.
He cried out, and would have leapt off the couch if it wasn't for the strong arm that enveloped itself around his midriff.
Danny quivered violently. It was impossible, that was the same hand that molested him at the club -
"Enjoyin' yerself?"
Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, he had to be dreaming, he had to be dreaming -
He felt that hand turn his head to the side, tenderly take off his glasses. He didn't realize he'd shut his eyes until he felt moist, firm lips move against his.
"You smell so fuckin' good."
Danny's eyes snapped open.
Flack's big blue ones stared back into his, glittering under the living room lights. The homicide detective was nude, sitting next to him on the sofa, his arm tight around his torso. Flack's other hand had crept up beneath his white tank top, caressing his back and flank, then gliding down to his groin.
Danny's lips parted in shock.
Flack was fondling him. Flack, his best friend, the man he'd been head over heels for years, was fondling him just like in his wildest fantasies.
"I've always wondered what ya look like naked on my couch, Messer."
The taller detective smiled broadly at him.
Flack leaned forward and pressed his lips against Danny's for the second time.
Danny's eyes fluttered close.
He moaned loudly, arching up into the other man's skilled caresses. He felt Flack's chuckle reverberate through his entire being.
The homicide detective's hand moved lower down between his legs.
And the world fell away from below him.